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Chapter Twenty Four - A Little Bit of Jizzle in My Life

"Are you sure you took it right?"

"I'm sure. This is a side effect. The waves aren't helping. Ugh, I still have one more to take in four hours."

Rosie was hanging over the rail of the boat, her hair held back with a rubber band she had taken off of a wilted bag of lettuce. She blanched and lurched forward, gagging. I walked over, my own stomach rolling just at the thought of upchucked french toast, and held onto her ponytail.

"Nick, this toilet seat is GROSS."

"You might not want to STARE at the seat while you're throwing up."

"I've never stared at this seat as much as I have the last few days. Oh my god, I don't want to know what this light brown spot it."

I held Lauren's long dark hair in my hands, straddling her long frame. She lurched forward and the dulcet sounds of vomiting filled the air. I ran my fingers up and down her hair, thinking about a much better time when we had been in this position but she was getting ridden bare back instead of tossing up her stomach.

Of course, THAT type of thing had probably gotten us to the upchucking part.

"Maybe we should just move," I suggested as she reached for a wad of toilet paper.

"Over a toilet seat?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

Lauren laughed and gagged at the same time.

"Let me introduce you to Mr. Clean..."

"Oh God, that was gross. Nick, does it look like that fish is eating it?"

"Nick?"

My hand fell from her ponytail. I looked at her pasty face. "You want fish?" I asked in confusion.

Her eyes dimmed. She pointed towards the water. "No, the fish is eating-- nevermind."

"I've sorry. I was spacing out again."

"It's okay. How long before we get back?"

"Once I get behind the wheel again? About a day."

Rosie pulled herself away from the railing. "I'm going to go call Uncle Tito," she said. "I want to update him on where I'm going."

"He's going to want you back."

Rosie flashed me a smile. "I know. That's when I'll pretend I've got a bad connection."

Her hand slid against my chest as she walked past me. I turned back towards the water. I dug my hand into my pocket and pulled out my cellphone. Hesitantly, I punched the five on my phone and listening to the Enya callback tone until I wanted to slam my head against the rail.

"Hello?"

"Hey," I said. I cleared my throat. "Hey."

"Nick? Dude, where've you been? I tried calling you twice about golf. And of course D's been trying to get us all together to talk about when we're going to pick back up again."

"Yeah," I said slowly. "I just needed to get away."

AJ hummed in understanding. "How ya doing?"

I took a step back from the rail in order to lift my leg and put it up on the lower safety bar. "I called to cash in on that offer you gave me awhile back."

"Which offer?" he asked. When he spoke again, he sounded excited. "The club? I'm telling ya, you won't be sorry. Runway girls having fuckin' landing strips. You kinda want to just get down and jaw."

I didn't say it, but I couldn't help but think it: that type of statement was the reason his marriage had only lasted six months.

"No, I meant the referral to your psychologist. You said she's good?"

"Oh, that." J sounded disappointed. "Yeah, she's really good. I mean, I haven't exactly had a good time following her advice, but..."

"How soon do you think I could get in?"

"I dunno. I can make some calls and get back to you. Are you doing okay?"

"I'm having a hard time right now and I just need to break through this wall."

"Nick, I'm going to say it again. The only way you're gonna break through that wall is if you get back into the game. I bet most of it's from all that build-up. Get a porno and just do it already. Or, let me take you to Runway. There's this blonde--"

I had to smile. Speaking to AJ was so damn different than talking to Brian. Brian's advice was full of honesty and long-range planning.

AJ's advice was full of living in the minute and strippers.

"You're right," I said. "There is this blonde."

"Wait, there's a girl? That's progress. Where'd you get her?"

"Sand Island in Hawaii."

"You fucker. You're in Hawaii?"

"No, we're heading home."

"We're?"

"I'm bringing the girl I met with me."

J laughed. "Damn. So what's her name?"

"Rosie."

"How old is she?"

"Twenty four."

"Nice."

I don't know why, but I looked behind me. Rosie was still below. I turned back to the water.

"She's gorgeous," I admitted.

"Did you finally get a load off your mind?"

I ran my tongue over my teeth. I hadn't done a whitening in forever.

"You could say that," I said lightly. "I kinda got a surprise."

"What type of surprise?" J asked curiously. He moaned. "Don't tell me she was double- jointed. You lucky bastard."

"No, not that," I said. "Then...?"

"She was a virgin."

J was quiet for all of thirty seconds. "Let me get this straight. You don't open a box of cracker jacks for two years and the first time you do you get the prize? I hate you."

"Those types of analogies are the reason you're single," I pointed out. "Cracker jack box?"

"I never said I was eloquent," he replied. He coughed deeply; it was a smoker's cough.

"Smoking again?"

"Don't lecture me. Tell me more about this girl. I'm happy for you. Everyone agrees it was overdue."

"That's the thing," I said. I needed to circle around to my point for calling. "I'm having some emotional issues because of things and I need to talk to someone."

"What type of issues?" J asked. "Oh," he said before I had a chance to reply. "are you screaming out the wrong name while you're hitting it?"

A wave of horror washed over me. I hadn't done that. Yet. I had done it before during my carousel of girlfriend years. I knew the aftermath of screaming another girl's name was worse than death.

"No!" I said. "I just keep thinking about Lauren."

J sighed. "You've got to let her go," he said gently.

"That's easier said than done," I argued. "Can you...can you just get me in to your quack?"

"I'll work my magic," he promised. "I'll give you a call back when I know something."

"Thank you," I said gratefully.

"A virgin," J muttered, almost to himself. "Nice."

All of a sudden, a blur of gold came into view. Rosie's head flew over the rail; brownish yellow liquid poured out of her mouth. Acid mixed with cinnamon. Lovely.

"I gotta go," I said quickly. "Bye."

I slammed my phone shut and picked up her ponytail. My other hand pressed against her back, rubbing in slow, gentle circles.

"Don't take that other pill," I said.

Her voice came drifting up from her watery projectory. "But--"

"It's not worth it," I assured her.

"It's just not worth it."